


Fire and Ice and

by vyrenrolar



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gay Awakening, Gay Panic, Johnson the Metaphysical Goalie - Freeform, M/M, expressions of internalized homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:23:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9447380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vyrenrolar/pseuds/vyrenrolar
Summary: Johnson takes over the narrative because he, too, ships NurseyDex.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Dex has some internalized homophobia to work through and freak out about. I promise it ends up okay.

Now that Johnson was no longer attending Samwell University, keeping up with Check Please had become something of an Experience. At this point, he generally ran any interference by his boss before influencing events on campus, but there were two particular SMH members who were, quite frankly, becoming ridiculous. He cracked his knuckles and reached for his phone. He was taking over the narrative. Again.

 

Johnson: Yo, Holster. Kegster. Saturday.

Holster: Where?

Johnson: Haus.

Holster: No?

Johnson: Yes.

Holster: Um…?

Johnson: Make sure Nursey and Dex are there. Dex is going to say he has homework. Tell him to get it done Friday.

Holster: Is this like when you shoved me and Rans under the mistletoe our freshman year?

Johnson: Yes.

Holster: You coming?

Johnson: Bro. I haven’t seen you fuckers in like. 8 months. Of course I’m coming.

Holster: ‘Swawesome.

 

Holster shook his head, then poked Ransom’s nose. “Hey, Rans, wake up. We got a kegster to plan.”

 

\---

 

“Nah, B, can't. Gonna get stupid amounts of high with Shitty. Also probably drunk.”

“But Derek, you love slam poetry! And I thought maybe afterwards we could, you know…” The redhead batted her eyes at him suggestively.

“Look, Bernice, you're sweet. But I'm spectacularly hung up on someone else at the moment. And anyway, slam poetry doesn't have mini pies. The Haus does.” He shrugged, picked up his messenger bag, and walked away.

 

\---

 

“Yo! What the hell, Shits? Why’d you start without me? And who the fuck's in your lap?” Nursery closed the door to Shitty’s spectacularly hotboxed room behind him and did his best to look offended.

Shitty’s eyes went wide. “Bro. Bro. Broseph. Brosephine. You gotta...there's a...Johnson! Say the thing you said!” He took another drag and attempted to blow smoke rings, an effort which was greatly impeded by his mustache.

Johnson gave Shitty a quick salute, then scrambled off the bed to stand in front of Nursey. “Derek Nurse? I'm John Johnson, and I'm going to change your life. Let's go to the reading room.” He took the slightly bewildered Nursey by the arm and marched him out the door.

“I assume you're familiar with SMH Bylaw Q?” Johnson said once they were on the roof.

“Of course. ‘Do whatever Johnson says. Do not ask questions.’ But why--?”

“Excellent. You see him?” Johnson pointed to the quad, where Dex and Lardo were playing frisbee.

“Yeah? But--”

“At tonight's kegster, you will wear your purple skinny jeans and that dark grey tank top you just bought. You will drink no alcohol and smoke no weed. When the theme song from That 70s Show starts to play, you will--”

“Wait, are you trying to set me up with Dex? Dude, he's straight! What the hell?”

Johnson glared at him. “That boy is most certainly not straight, and it is high time he experienced his Gay Awakening. You, sir, shall be the catalyst. Now, can I finish going over the plan?”

 

\---

 

Dex was standing with his back to the wall, Shirley Temple in hand. He thought it odd that Shitty would make him a drink with no alcohol in it, but, hey, it was tasty.

He tried not to watch Nursey, he really did. But the boy was so  _ fluid _ . It seemed like any modicum of grace in that boy’s body was only allowed to come out on the ice or the dance floor. And the way Nursey was writhing against--

Nope. No. He wasn’t thinking about that. He was thinking about his drink. Counting ice cubes. Calculating volume. Yup. He squeezed his eyes shut, then took another sip. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, wondering why he was even at the kegster in the first place. “Fucking Holster,” he muttered to himself.

He opened his eyes to the sight of a familiar pair of purple legs. “Yo, Dex, quit being a wallflower! Dance with me!” Before he could respond, he found himself being dragged onto the middle of the floor.

(He wasn’t sure what had happened to his drink. For the record, Johnson had whisked it out of his hand as soon as Nursey had started pulling.)

“Come on, Nurse, you know I don’t dance.”

“Bullshit. Plus, it’s like a 45 second song. Humor me.”

Dex groaned, but started moving his hips.

“Hey, there we go! Look at those moves! All two of them!”

“Oh shut up! You know I’m sexy.” He stuck his tongue out at Nursey.

Nursey smiled. “Damn right you are.”

Dex’s stomach flip flopped. He ignored it.

The song ended, and Dex made to return to his spot on the wall. He was stopped, however, by Nursey’s hand on his wrist. “Hold up, bro. I like this song. Dance with me.”

“Bro. It’s a slow song.”

“So?”

Dex opened his mouth to protest, but found himself at a loss for words. One of Nursey’s hands was on his waist, and it was fire and ice all the same time, and

“What the hell, man?” He shoved Nursey away from him and bolted for the door.

Nursey was left staring at his hands. He looked for Johnson in the crowd, and found him in Dex’s former spot on the wall. The man nodded and raised his glass to Nursey, who squared his shoulders and followed Dex out the door.

He found his friend standing under the big oak tree in the yard with his hands in his pockets, kicking repeatedly at one of the tree’s roots. “One Gay Awakening, coming up,” he said under his breath.

He walked up to Dex, but kept a respectful distance. “Sorry about that bro, I just thought--”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t fucking think,  _ Derek _ .” Dex spit his first name into the dirt at his feet.

“‘M sorry.” Nursey scuffed the ground with his boot.

Dex sighed. “What the hell were you thinking, anyway, man?” He seemed defeated, as though he thought it couldn’t possibly be any worse than what was in his head.

Nursey grinned sheepishly. “Well, I was kinda thinking that I wanted to dance with a hot guy, maybe make out a little later?”

“And what? Maybe if you got lucky you’d get to see my dick? Is that all you ever think about, Nurse? Fucking? Does it even matter who?”

Nursey took a step back. Maybe Johnson was wrong...No. He had to see this through. He fought to relax his jaw.

“Jesus, Poindexter. Is that what you think?”

His hands were by his side, palms open and facing Dex. Dex, on the other hand, had his fists balled like he was going to haul off and punch Nursey. He looked angry, but beneath that, Nursey thought he saw a glimmer of fear, and maybe something else.

“Dude, I’m crazy about you. Have been since we met. And it pissed me off, you know? I mean, for fuck’s sake, you had that Samwell Republican sticker on your car--”

“Oh bull, you know Wicks put that there to fuck with me!”

“Well, yeah I know that  _ now _ , but that’s not the point. Dude, have you even seen yourself? You’re fucking…stunning, or whatever. And you’re brilliant, and you come at me with everything you have, all the time, and I love that. You just--you’re like fire, and ice, and you--”

He was interrupted by Dex tackling him to the ground. He was scared for a split second, and then Dex started kissing him.

When Dex finally pulled away to catch his breath, Nursey chuckled.

“Shut up,  _ Derek _ .” And now his name sounded like honey coming from this boy’s lips, and he could not help but kiss him again.

“Will,” he said softly, and grinned when he felt the boy on top of him shiver. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go talk. Figure this out.”

Dex buried his face in Nursey’s neck and mumbled something that sounded like, “Okay.”


End file.
